D is for Dangerous --A Dean Winchester fanfiction--
by tayintheskywithdiamonds
Summary: "With one swipe of her hand she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, she examined the area, and saw that people was beginning to fill the bar. She adjusted her top, and made sure the tops of her breasts overflowed it. For the second time that night, she looked over her attire. Smirking to herself, she knew that she would be turning heads tonight. " (Rated M)


**Hello! I would just like to say that this is my first REAL fanfiction. This idea had struck me a couple of months back, and I just started writing. Soon enough after butt loads of encouragement I decided to publish this. I certainly hope you enjoy and please tell me if you would like to see more chapters in the future. Thank you and please enjoy.**

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_ " D is for Delightful and try and keep your trousers on. I think you should know you're his favourite worst nightmare. " - The Arctic Monkeys._

Her name was dutch for beautiful, and she was definitely something of the sort. She had long brunette hair fluttered down her back, her bright blue eyes were the colour of the ocean, and her smile could cure villages. Why she chose this path was a question that constantly remained unanswered. Only she could possibly answer that. They were always too caught up in the way she spun around that sinful pole or how she swung her hips the way she did. No one would ever get close enough to figure out what was buried deep behind those glassy eyes, and Arabella was oh so happy about that.

Arabella's life before her current occupation wasn't like most of her colleagues. She didn't have daddy issues; she wasn't scraping up money. Truth be told, he enjoyed her job. She loved strutting about, shaking around and presenting to all of the men something that they could never have. If her father found out, her ass would certainly be grass. Though, it was so much better than what she was raised up on. She knew about things that would frighten the children, and make a clever man go crazy. Her past was adorned with rock salt, iron, and the tattoo that would forever litter her soft pale skin. The mark that would keep her safe from the monsters that lurked. So she liked to keep that truth hidden behind the person she was today.

"Okay, Daddy. I've got to go to work. We're suppose to be really busy tonight," she said, her phone barely touching her cheek out of anticipation of hanging up. She shifted her weight on the heel on her right foot, "Yeah, alright. Love you too. Bye." With a tap on her screen she shoved her phone in her small purse that she later discarded in a chair. She was relieved that the club wasn't already blaring with music, because then it would have just added onto the fact that she was actually lying to her father.

She gazed into the large mirror that stretched across about half of the wall. Arabella examined her figure. She let her eyes drop down her body, and rake against her black lingerie. Her eyes lingered on the tattoo that branded her thigh. The marking looked nicely contrasted against her pale skin, clashing with the black she wore. Her costume for tonight's performance was complete.

Spinning around on one heel, she made her way towards the front of the club, and noticed that it was close to show time. The music over head started to pour into the small area like a waterfall. With one swipe of her hand she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, she examined the area, and saw that people was beginning to fill the bar. She adjusted her top, and made sure the tops of her breasts overflowed it. For the second time that night, she looked over her attire. Smirking to herself, she knew that she would be turning heads tonight.

She looked over the number of heads that trampled through like a herd of wild buffalo, and in the crowd she caught the eye of a handsome stranger whose eyes seemed to linger on that embarrassing brand that cursed her skin. "Must be a hunter." she thought, and averted her eyes. She had made a promise, she wouldn't break that. Even for the most attractive man.

Arabella turned away from the men and clacked her heels up the steps towards the back. Whenever she reached the makeup room, girls were scattered everywhere. Most were touching up on last minute makeup, and some were merely waiting until showtime. She hardly knew anyone, and for that, she was happy. These girls were not friend material. They were honestly far from it. Her mind drifted to the forbidden fruit she spotted earlier. Hunters normally drifted in and out of the joint, but she hadn't seen one as charming as this one. Most just tipped her extra, and she never took any notice to them, but this one, this one she noticed. For a moment she wanted to break down every boundary she had and run off with that handsome face. Though her thoughts were interrupted when her boss instructed that it was time to "earn your pay".

Almost instantly, she plastered her signature smirk on her face, and ran her fingers through her hair to give it that risque look and waltzed her way onto the stage. Her hips swung in the most sultry way, and with a simple extend of her arm, she grasped the metal pole that waited for her. Oh, it was showtime.

She danced until her hips ached with each step, and her back felt like it was on fire, but no the night was still young. She scanned the crowd that folded out around her, men carelessly tossing dollar bills towards her silhouette. Lazily she scooped a few wrinkles bills up and pushed them down in her bra. Arabella easily slipped off the stage, and joined the men that littered the crowd. Her mind wandered back to the man she had spotted earlier, and decided that it wouldn't hurt to find him in the crowd. Adrenaline coursed through her small body, and as her hips bopped to the beat her eyes glazed over the many faces. Her eyes landed on the man for the the second time that night, and not to her surprise it had looked like he had watched her stumble through the ocean of sweaty dancers and horny men. She gave the hunter a wink, and what she thought was a smirk. Next to him was a man that had not yet graced her eyes. The other man was taller and had messier hair. He had a baby face compared to the one he was next to, but they had similar features. She clicked that they might be brothers. He didn't strike her as much the older one did. His looks alone gave her images that she wanted to reenact. So she went against everything she had promised. She found herself in front of the man, her hand on the table as her eyes dropped down his body. He gave her a wicked smirk, and did what she thought was shooing the other man away.

The hand that brushed the brother away met her cheek and his thumb ran across her bottom lip. He grunted over the tune that she recognized as a remastered version of a Nirvana song; he seemed to be amused that she had came over. He seemed proud of himself. The girl with the branded leg couldn't resist his spell. She couldn't break away from him. The music overhead was the only thing that they could hear. A silence had fell over the two adults, and she was so eager to shatter it with moans and pleas. Though without another thought he pulled her on him, crashing their lips in a frenzy of emotions. Her knees went weak at the connection and instantly, her hands balled at his shirt, pulling him further into the embrace.

All at once Arabella released his balled up shirt and pushed him back in the flimsy chair. Her hips slammed to the beat of the song. She lifted her hands over her head and let them slide down her slim figure. Leaning over the hunter she moved it close so she could whisper in his ear, "Dance with me." The three silly words sounded more like a purring demand, and she knew that the male wouldn't resist. Like she expected, whenever she lent back up, he was following her every step. Turning around she met him halfway. She moved to the music. Her hips rotated and her hands went up over her head to wrap them around his neck. He was busy peppering kisses down her neck, trying to distract Arabella from the obvious growth in his jeans.

She was aware that she would scold herself later on about her actions towards this man, but at the moment she was willing to anything. Arabella knew that this was all wrong, but it would only be for tonight, right? This hunter was never going to get to know her, and he was never going to know her by anything but her stage name. So this was all safe. She was free to do anything to the male without her conscience messing up her mood. She could sway her hips against his hips and not feel bad about it. So she did just that and became smothered with his reaction. His hands immediately grasped Arabella's hips and pulled them back firmer against him so with that the friction burned hotter. She twisted her hips back in the most delicious manner, and with that action she shifted around to face her mystery lover and placed her hands over his stubbly cheeks and pressed her lips to his. They never stopped moving and grinding to the beat that shook the whole of the gentleman club, and everything was wiped clean from her mind. No longer did she care what this dangerous man did for a living. She wanted him. She wanted to wake up with the taste of him on her tongue and be cursed with the memory of this beautiful man that she was determined to claim for the night.


End file.
